


Letting go

by LostinFic



Series: Hardy x Hannah ficlets [5]
Category: Broadchurch, Secret Diary of a Call Girl (TV)
Genre: F/M, The Sum of its Parts verse, VERY light bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 19:18:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2439884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostinFic/pseuds/LostinFic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompts: "Alec Hardy takes Hannah on a vacation after a particularly difficult case, so he can lose himself in her." + "Make me"</p><p>Hannah wants to  help Hardy relax and in the process she realizes he's not the only one for whom it's difficult to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letting go

**Author's Note:**

> Another one shot set in the Sum of its Parts verse. I hope you'll enjoy it.

**:: London, May 2010 ::**

Hannah is surprised when Hardy calls to cancel their next appointment. He sounds weary, as if pronouncing the words takes a huge effort, and she wonders if there’s more to it than the cancellation.

“It’s just for this week, hopefully,” Alec clarifies, “I’ll be there again in three weeks, if— if that’s alright with you.”

She smiles to herself and writes down his name in the June 4th case.

“Of course. Is your workshop cancelled?” she asks.

“No, DI Patel asked me to stay, to work, there’s this— this series of crime, it’s…”

He sighs deeply and Hannah starts worrying. She asks how he’s doing even though it goes against her policies to chat with clients on the phone. She’s not a helpline after all.

“These things happen, it’s part of my work,” he replies evasively.

“So? It doesn’t mean it won’t affect you. You’re not invincible because you’re a detective.”

“I suppose.”

“Are you, I don’t know, are you sleeping well?”

He scoffs.

“When I lie awake at night, sometimes I think…” he begins.

“What?”

“Forget it, it’s stupid.”

“Oh, go on,” she insists.

“… I start thinking, I’ll take a break after this case, you know, leave it all behind for a while. I think about taking you on a vacation, somewhere exotic, and just… I dunno, anyway, it’s silly.”

“I don’t think so.”

 

After hanging up, she looks up Sandbrook’s local newspaper on the Internet to find out what makes Hardy so miserable. The article alone is enough to give someone nightmares: for the last two weeks, an unidentified man has been entering houses at night and attacking the residents.

Nothing connects the victims, anyone could be next. The whole city is panicking and there is a lot of pressure on the police department to solve this case quickly.

She follows the evolution of the investigation over the course of the following days. On Wednesday, she learns the criminal was arrested during the previous night. Hardy calls that afternoon: he’s allowed to go to London after all. He sounds completely exhausted.

 She starts thinking that he may never be able to afford taking her on a vacation but there is something she can do for him.

 

* * *

 

“Aloha!”

Hannah kisses Hardy’s cheek and puts a flower necklace like hers around his neck as he enters her flat. She takes off his coat while he takes in her hula skirt and the kitsch Hawaiian decorations she put up in the living room. She may have gone a little overboard.

“What’s all this for?” he asks.

“A vacation.”

He seems pleased but it’s hard to tell. He’s got deep bags under his eyes and his face is ashen. It seems he can barely muster up the energy to smile. She hates to see him like this. Cupping his cheek, she offers a small smile, he immediately leans into her touch and closes his eyes.

“I thought we could start with a swim in the ocean.”

 

The bath is already filled but she runs more hot water to warm it up, and she adds some hibiscus scented bubbles. Meanwhile, Hardy undresses, he’s got a frown deeply etched on his forehead and she starts to wonder if it will ever go away.

“Are you all right?”

“Yep,” he replies too quickly.

She thinks it will pass once he’s in the relaxing bath and the tension starts leaving his body.

She gets in first and he settles between her legs, resting his head back on her shoulder. He’s as stiff as a plank but she runs the flannel over his upper body and he caresses her legs under the water, and soon he’s, well, not relaxed exactly but looser. She pats herself on the back for knowing exactly what he needed.

 

“Do you ever take baths?” Hannah asks after a while.

When he doesn’t answer, she looks down at his face: There’s a vacant look in his eyes and that bloody frown again.

“Hardy?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re still thinking about work aren’t you?”

“Aye, I can’t stop,” he replies grimly.

She soaps up her hands and runs them up and down his shoulders, working her thumbs along his trapezoids.

“Do you want to talk to me about it?”

“Why? There’s nothing you can do.”

At his rude reply, she stiffens behind him.

“It’s not you.” He brings her hand to his mouth, kisses it in apology. “I just— I’ll deal with it by myself. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. I just wanna forget about it for now.”

 “I understand.” She runs her free hand down his torso to his pelvis and whispers in his ear: “Let’s finish washing up and I’ll make you forget.”

 

In the living room, there’s some sort of exotic music playing softly in the background, she’s turned up the heat too, recreating a tropical climate on this rainy day.

She offers him a cocktail in a coconut shaped cup. He takes a sip but grimaces at the sugary taste.

“That bad?”

“Have you tasted it?”

She samples the drink and pulls a similar face with a chuckle.

 

“You gave yourself a lot of trouble for this… vacation,” he comments.

She shrugs.

She doesn’t tell him it’s the kind of things she often does for clients, it’s one of the reasons why she’s so in demand and expensive. Although, if she’s honest, it’s usually at the client’s request rather than a proactive gesture.

Instead of a vocal answer, she gives him a sultry look and extends a hand to pull him towards her. He removes her hair clip, letting loose curls tumble to her shoulders, he runs a hand through it to bring her mouth to his. She hopes he’s getting as aroused as she is.

“So, about making me forget,” he asks, fiddling with the top of the towel wrapped around her.

“Lie down.”

 

He sits on the thick beach towel she put on the floor and looks up as she disrobes in one elegant move. The colorful fairy lights she put up around the room create a rainbow across her skin.

She slowly kisses her way down his body. With every encounter, she perfects her knowledge of the touches that arouse him like running her nails over his ribs, a featherlight finger trailed just above his hips and teasing kisses inside his thighs.

When he doesn’t respond to any of it, she stops teasing and uses her tongue on him. Despite her best efforts, he remains only half-hard. She stops and he doesn’t even seem to notice. Obviously, he’s still deep in thoughts.

“Hey, you’re still thinking,” she says in a way she hopes doesn’t sound like a reproach.

Covering his eyes with his hand, he emits a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan.

“I should just go.”

“No way,” she says, sitting over his lap to stop him from getting up.

He lifts himself up in a sitting position, facing her, and encircles her waist with his arms.

“Stay. I’m not done with you yet. I could try—”

“I’m not some sort of challenge, Hannah… thanks for trying.”

He tries to get up again but she doesn’t budge.

“What would you do at this hour, anyway? Drive back home and work all night? You arrested him already.”

“So? There’s still a lot that needs to be done and here I am…” He swallows thickly.

Guilt, of course.

 

Hannah swipes his fringe off his forehead and traces the crease between his eyebrows, pouting. She kisses his frown repeatedly until it has completely disappeared. His smile is weak but it’s there. His arms tighten around her waist and he rests his head in the crook of her neck.

“I keep going over and over what I could’ve done differently to catch him sooner.”

Hannah is at a loss on what to do to help him out if a blow job won’t work but then it occurs to her that she’s going about this all wrong.

“You don’t need to relax.”

“I don’t?”

“You need something else.”

"And what’s that?"

 

She stands up with a teasing glint in her eyes. He imitates her and, much to his consternation, when he tries to kiss her, she slips away with a giggle. He chases after her around the flat until they reach the entry hall. He traps her against the wall, one hand on each side of her head, and captures her mouth. There’s a tiny spark in his eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago, she giggles and he kisses her again. She feels him twitch against her thigh.

“So, what is it that I need?”

She reaches for the robe on the coat rack beside her and slides its silky belt out of the loops. She dangles it in front of Hardy’s eyes with a wink. Placing the belt behind his neck, she starts walking backwards, guiding him towards the bed. He follows, amused and no longer tensed.

 

They tumble on the bed, lips and hips locked together. She slips out of his grasp once more and moves to the top of bed. Hardy slides up her body, kissing and pressing his now growing erection along the way.

“You don’t need to relax, you need,” she holds the belt between her hands and makes it snap, “to be in control.”

The sex has been rather vanilla up until now and even if he looks a bit uncertain, he’s clearly excited by this new opportunity. Her own heart is hammering in her chest, she’s not used to finding herself in that position, she always keeps the upper hand with clients. “I’m only giving him the illusion of control,” she reminds herself.

 

His agile fingers wrap the silk loosely around her wrists and the bed frame. She could easily undo it if she has to, but he still asks if it’s too tight with genuine concern and she adores him for it.

He runs his nose along her jaw and brushes his lips against hers, never quite kissing her, until she makes a frustrated sound and then he simply licks her pouty lip with a devious chuckle.

He sits back on his haunches and she squeaks when he pulls her towards him until her arms are outstretched above her head. Stroking himself lazily, he admires her body in a way that makes her roll her hips, offering more to his feasting eyes. Then, he makes his fingers whisper over her flesh and she feels her skin break into goosebumps under his teasing touches as if every fiber of her being is reaching up to him. If only she could touch him back. There’s a delicious warmth swimming in her lower abdomen and her pulse thuds between her legs.

When he covers her body with his own and takes her mouth, she knows he has finally stopped holding back. He covers her with messy kisses and tiny nips, pinching and sucking on her nipples, completely absorbed by his task. He’s not thinking anymore. He only stops when every inch of her has been worshipped and she’s already a wreck. His hand slips between her thighs, gliding between her folds, testing her readiness, making her moan.

 

“Turn around,” he whispers in her ear.

“Make me,” she replies because nothing will ever quell that defiant streak in her.

He growls and kisses her forcefully, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth. He grabs her waist, ready to manhandle her in the position he desires, but he stops.

“I don’t know that I can make you do anything you don’t want to.”

“Are you giving up so easily?”

He studies her for a few seconds before pressing a kiss between her breasts, then he places his hand over it, holding her gaze.

It’s the way he looks at her. She wanted to make him forget everything so she became the center of his universe. Her heart speeds up, pounding against his palm, faster and faster. And now part of her actually wants to relinquish all control to him. And he’s still looking in her eyes, so patient, so honest, unaware of the turmoil it stirs inside her. She arches up, pressing into his hand, with a strangled moan, almost a sob. He kisses her tenderly, too tenderly, and it breaks something in her. She turns around.

With her wrists still tied to the bottom of the headboard, she’s bowing down to desire. In that position, she feels exposed, vulnerable. Before she can change her mind, he presses his lips to her spine and she remembers that she’s safe with him.

Then the brush of his fingers along her sides kindles her lust and soon he’s pushing in her. She moans, low and dirty.

He starts with long, careful thrusts, his grip tight on her hips. She’s sure he must be gritting his teeth.

“Fuck, I’m so close already.”

He changes position to hold on to the headboard and slip a hand where they are joined. Between her shoulder blades, she can feel the tickle of his hair, the sweat on his forehead, the warm puffs of his breath. He’s moving fast, erratic, like she wants him to and she bites her pillow.

Her thighs start quivering under the effort of keeping up with his thrusts and holding back her orgasm. But his fingers speed up and his teeth are on her skin. She’s coming before she’s even realized it’s happening. A lightning bolt of pleasure. But it doesn’t stop there, little aftershocks zap through her with each thrust. And he’s panting and swearing. He’s losing himself in her. When he can’t hold off anymore, he buries himself to the hilt and shudders above her.

He collapses on top of her but soon rolls off so as not to suffocate her. She releases her own wrists as if that somehow proves a point and lies on her side facing him.

“Come here,” he says opening his arms.

She hesitates, and he scoots slightly closer, as if approaching a wild animal. She nods and he moves completely to her side of the bed, but she’s the one taking him in her arms. He’s the one who needs help after all. She’s comforted in her role of caregiver. The illusion of control is restored.


End file.
